


Taking Down Heaven from the Inside

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Heaven, Season Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Roadhouse crew enlists Bobby and unknown angels for help in finding Sam and Dean and a spell to open Heaven back up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“How much longer do we have, Ash?” Jo asked, running in from the back room, arms full of supplies. She didn’t know what any of it did, but the look in Ash’s eye when she dumped the box out in front of him told her that this was exactly what he needed.

Ash clapped his hands. “Don’t know. Excellent, Jo, absolutely excellent. Now grab me a PBR. I need a refuel and have some work to do.”

Jo wanted to chuckle, but she held back, only letting the slightest smile cross her face before returning to her stern look of being consumed by tension as she crossed behind the bar. She grabbed a PBR and tossed it at Ash, who caught it without looking and thanked her with a fist raise, his eyes not leaving the plans he had laid out across the table.

Ellen and Pamela came from the back, their arms full of spell items in boxes.

“I think that’s everything,” Ellen said to Ash, placing their boxes on the next table over to give him his space.

“Great, that’s fantastic. Call Bobby, tell him I need him to look up a few things real quick.”

“Oh he’s gonna love that,” Ellen muttered under her breath.

“Just a few things,” Ash swore, flipping through the pages of a manual with one hand and digging through the box Jo brought him with the other.

“You call. He likes you better,” she said to Pam.

“Lies. Blatant lies,” Pam hissed. “I called him last time. Jo, you’re up.”

Jo groaned. “What’s he so twisted up about anyway?”

“The game’s going on downstairs, his boys need him, and he’s up here trapped like all of us,” her mother answered quickly.  “Now get your cute little girl voice on and see if you can drag some help out of that grumpy old ass.”

Ash pounded his hands on the table. “Get him on the phone, please?”

“Okay, okay,” Jo said as she walked to the phone. She twisted the phone cord around her finger. Why would Ash have one of these old corded phones in his Heaven? She didn’t have but two rings to wonder before Bobby picked up.

“Who the hell is this and what do you want now?”

“Hey, Bobby!” Jo said as delightfully as she could. “Get a lot of telemarketers lately?” she said, trying to lighten the mood. Before he could answer, she cleared her throat and continued. “Is there any way we could borrow you and that book collection of yours? Ash needs a little help on the spell part of this thing he’s trying.”

“Oh so they sent Goldilocks to wake the bear,” he huffed. “Fine. Put him on.”

Jo untangled herself from the coiled line and stretched it to where Ash was sitting at the table in front of the bar. “It’s for you.”

“Bobby!” Ash shouted. “Seeing as how I’ve got some things going on here on the tech side, I was hoping you could help me and the gals in getting some spells straightened out. Put together I think we got ourselves a master plan.”

“Take down Heaven from the inside?” Bobby asked.

“Take down Heaven from the inside. Damn straight.” Ash kicked back the table and rummaged through the boxes sitting at the table next to him, getting the cord all tangled up in the process.  “Various bloods, angel feathers, angel ashes – that one was fun to get, an angel’s grace – even more fun to get. And a couple other little knickknacks that might come in handy.”

“You got an angel’s grace?” Bobby asked, dumbfounded.

“Oh yeah. Went on a covert op into the big guy’s area of operations while he was downstairs stirring up shit. Before he got his roadies crawling all over. Totally ruined the vibe. Anyway, got grace in a bottle, wrapped up like a gift. Figured it come in handy.”

“You’re damn right it would. Let me get to looking, I’ll call if I find anything.”

Ash turned and stopped moving for a minute, speaking quietly into the phone. “Bobby, man, why don’t you just pop on over when you find what we’re looking for? I think the girls’d like to see you. I know Ellen would.”

Bobby looked at his surroundings. His heaven was his house, quiet and full of books, dust drifting in the air, beer in the fridge and whiskey on the shelf. “Nah, I’ll stick around here.” He looked over to the phones on the walls that never rang. FBI. CIA. Insurance company. All the phones with all the labels, just like he’d remembered. Except now they never ring.

“Bobby,” Ash started.

“God damn it I’ll think about it, okay?” Bobby spat into the phone before he hung up. He sat in the silence for a minute before wondering aloud, “Boys, what are you getting up to this time?”

He sat for only a minute before getting up out of his chair, throwing back his whiskey, and started searching.  Angel lore was a pain in the ass to figure out. Having only acknowledging their existence for a few years, and with all the contradicting accounts and conjecture, weeding out what was helpful and what was absolute bunk was the real test.  It’d be helpful if they had an angel to ask these questions to, but Angel Radio had been silent for going on a year except for a few things here and there that made no sense. The only thing any one of them knew was that it was awful quiet on the angel side of things up there, and the Winchesters and Cas were the only things consistently talked about. _Wouldn’t that figure_ , Bobby thought. Heaven closes down shop, his boys had to be involved. He chuckled wondering how many hunters must see something catastrophic happening and curse Sam and Dean, just knowing they either caused it or knew something about it, most likely the former.  

 

Ash fiddled quickly with coated copper wire and old circular speaker from a car door panel, looking nervously between his plans and the clock. He didn’t know what he was counting down to, but he felt the quicker he could get his contraption working, the better. He’d rigged Angel Radio easy enough. In theory, this shouldn’t be too hard. In theory, that is.

Jo, Ellen, and Pamela watched him work, afraid to bother him to see if he needed any help, knowing they wouldn’t be able to do much anyway.  

“I’m bored,” Jo declared, straightening up. “I’m going to go help Bobby and maybe get him to come back with me. At least for a bit.”

“Jo,” Ellen started.

“Mom, I want to do something,” Jo interrupted, her arms crossed and determined. “And I know how to get there.” She knew her mother’s hesitancy was her having to remember Bobby’s house, her last night alive. She gave her a flat smile she knew was of little reassurance, but turned heel and walked away. She got to the door of the Roadhouse and rested her hand on the knob. She remembered Dean, the coolness of the fridge against her side, the taste of beer. Closing her eyes she remembered the kitchen, the living room, his entry. She remembered his house at the salvage yard, and as she turned the handle her hand was touching, she pushed in through Bobby Singer’s front door.

She stepped into the entry and closed the door behind her. She never had walked into someone else’s heaven before – Ellen and Pamela had always done the traveling. The smell was familiar, as if she had been there just the day before. She watched the dust particles swim through the sunlight that poured in through the windows and took in the house in a way she hadn’t before. As her eyes drifted across the shelves of books, she heard the pop of a beer opening in the kitchen behind her.

“You lost or somethin’?”

“Hey, Bobby. Came to visit.” Jo said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Thought maybe I could help with something?”

“Well after I finish this beer, you can help me figure out how to get to Ash with these books,” he said, nodding to the pile of archaic works stacked on the kitchen table.  

“You’re coming to the Roadhouse?” Jo said, her voice high and a smile spread across her face. Bobby never left his house.

“Stop looking like you got told you’re going to Disneyworld,” he huffed. Jo stood very still and tried to make her face look solemn, but her eyes were still shining with happiness.  “I keep waiting for those phones to ring,” he said, nodding to the far wall, “and I need to realize they’re not ever going to.”

Jo’s heart sank a little. “Well then drink up old man so you can let me and Mom help you rummage through these things.” Her hand patted the books and dust flew into the air. “Three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

 

“Who do we have down there that might be able to help us get to Sam and Dean if we can’t directly?” Ash asked.

“Well isn’t that what this…whatever it is…is for?” Pamela asked.

“Yeah we can try. But if they aren’t in the Impala, or they’re otherwise indisposed, it might be easier to have someone send a message. You know of any psychic friends that know the Winchesters?”

Pam scoffed. “Just about every one of us I know. Don’t know who is still around and who we can trust.”

“Missouri Moseley,” Bobby said as he came through the door, Jo trailing behind him. “She’s known the boys forever, was friends with John. She’s about the only person I’d trust down there now.”

“Bobby!” Ellen shouted, meeting him at the door. She threw her arms around him, ignoring the books pushing against her ribs. “You came!”

“Yeah, well, three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

Jo cocked her eyes at him, and then looked to Ash. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“There’s been a development that requires another covert op,” he answered.

“But it’s not going to happen,” Ellen interjected. “We’ll find another way.”

“Ellen, we’ve only got a little to go on. We need more intel. Without that we might as well be going in blind.”

“He’s got a point." Pamela said. "More information is better than anything we’ve got. And those boys,” she sighed, smiling. Her arms crossed her chest. “They need all the help they can get. They can call it divine intervention from heaven.”

Jo’s look of confusion deepened. “What is happening?”

“What do you mean a covert op?” Bobby asked.

Ash exhaled and put his arms in the air in a stretch. “Well here’s the thing, we got mostly static if not dead silence from Angel Radio for what, the first three months? Then there was talking, and talking, and more talking, but it was nothing helpful, and still static-y enough for us to not be able to figure out what the hell was going on. The first time we went out and gathered random things we could find that could be helpful was during radio silence. But now there are angels out there. Doesn’t seem like many, but enough to make getting information hard. This is where it gets dangerous.”

“And where I object.”

“Ellen just hear me out,” Ash pleaded. He turned back to Bobby. “It’d be hard to get into angel headquarters and snoop around with even a small army walking around in business suits, but it wouldn’t be too hard to snag one of those holy tax accountants and bring them back here for questioning.” He paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for a response.

“So you want us to A-Team into HQ and steal a soldier of God?” Bobby asked.

“It sounds easier if you call them holy tax accountants?” Ash suggested.

“And which one of us is going to be able to walk in there without immediate detection?”

“You and Ellen can be back up and snatch whoever Jo, the most angelic looking of us all, lures away from the pack,” Ash said. “You stay out of sight, Jo brings one to you, you bring them here.”

“And we put ‘em in a circle of holy fire?”

“Basically.”

Bobby huffed. “So how do we bring one _here_?”

 

Jo pressed her hands down on the front of her clothes, a pantsuit and blouse with matching blazer. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, looking professional.  Ash handed each her, Bobby, and Ellen a Taser, “just in case.” They tucked them into their waistbands. Ellen went to the door and gripped her daughter’s hand as they stepped through. 

The road in front of them was pressed dirt with flecks of gravel. Trees lined the horizon, and in the center of the road was another door, this a one solid and clean decorated oak. The three looked at each other and continued on, wondering how many doors they would go through before they hit the right one.

 

“So what do we do while we wait?” Pamela asked Ash.

“Well, we keep an ear out on the CB when we’re not using it and hope that our crew doesn’t get made or lost, and use this thing to do a test run and find either Sam and Dean or Missouri Moseley.” Ash gestured to his homemade PA system, hooked up to a car battery, ran through a car stereo with a karaoke microphone plugged into the input. All of this was wired into the laptop on a constant scan for anything he could pick up in heaven.  It was all in working order technically speaking.

“You really think this it’ll work?” Pamela asked.

“I certainly hope so.” Ash flicked the switch and the battery hummed. He tapped the mic. “Testing, testing…anybody out there?” He put his head in his hands, wiping his face before continuing. “Missouri Moseley, if you’re listening, I need your help to get a message to the boys. We’re friends of Sam and Dean Winchester. If someone can find Missouri Moseley, we need her help. Over.”

“Now what?” Pamela asked, listening to the hum of the battery and the static fluctuating over Ash’s ‘holy-rolling police scanner’. “If someone does hear it – and not an angel – how do we get someone to answer back?”

“Somebody’ll hear, that’s for sure. Just hoping the angels who aren’t on our side are too busy to pay attention.”

“You pretty much just put out a BOLO for the Winchesters. I think they might be interested in that,” Pamela scolded.

“There’re plenty of angels probably mumbling about the Winchesters. Their name flies across this scanner at least twelve times a day. We just have to hope that the right person hears our message. Preferably Missouri.” Ash popped the tab on another PBR. “Now we need to pay attention and listen to see if anything stirs up about our amigos and Operation Snatch an Angel.”


	2. Chapter 2

A short rapping woke Missouri up from her nap. She’d fallen asleep in her chair, her tea having gone cold in the time since she initially sat down. The door rapped again. She stood from her chair and made her way to the door, shouting that she was coming and for whoever it was to hold their horses. When she opened the door, a young girl with springy curls and freckles stood at her porch looking solemn.

“Isn’t it too late in the year for Girl Scout cookies?” Missouri asked.

“Missouri Moseley?” the girl asked.

Missouri looked at her sideways. “Yes. And you are?”

“Jophiel. May I come in?”

“That’s a strange name for a little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl,” she snapped. “I’m an angel.”

 

Jo’s shoes clacked uncomfortably loud against the tile floor three doors later and they had made it to a gleaming white hallway full of offices and angels walking around an open common area, seemingly on very important missions. Bobby and Ellen stayed by the door in the vacant hallway they entered while Jo went looking. She didn’t know who to be looking for, and didn’t know if any angel would be fine or if she should be looking for a specific type. Someone higher up would know more than anyone running around looking scared on the main floor, but ducking into the offices seemed unnecessarily stupid. She walked the hallways, keeping track of where she was in reference to where her mom and Bobby were located. As she crossed the main floor she looked up to the second floor landing where a dark-haired man stood at the three-rung metal railing staring down at her. She dropped her eyes and kept moving.

Jo reached the secluded back hall and rounded the corner, making her way down the short length of space between offices and the hall that would lead her back to the common area. She stepped around to make the loop back to her mom and Bobby and ran straight into the chest of the man who had been staring at her.

“Oh, excuse me!” she said, flustered. She pushed a short wave of hair that had come loose back behind her ear.

“I don’t recognize you,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“New vessel,” Jo said, continuing her path to safety. “Still breaking it in,” she said over her shoulder.

He followed. “No, I’d still recognize you. I didn’t think that Metatron had anyone new working in this area – only the original loyal followers allowed in this area?”

Jo sped up. “Just transferred. Finally got my promotion,” she joked. “Did a special favor, got me moved up the ladder.”

“Really?” he asked. “Now what kind of favor got you moved up into Metatron’s inner circle?”

“Oh, you know,” Jo stalled, quickening her pace. “Told him where Castiel was.” It was a shot in the dark, but one she thought would at least keep him from calling out to his buddies. Providing they were still looking for Castiel, and that Castiel wasn’t dead.

“Castiel?” he said, taking longer steps until he was alongside her. “Is that so?”

“That’s so,” Jo smiled. She turned left into the short alcove where Bobby and Ellen were, turned, and Tased him in the neck, throwing him off guard just enough for Ellen and Bobby to grab him as Jo opened the door.

 

The four practically fell through the door of the Roadhouse, and as soon as the door was shut, Ash and Bobby had the stolen angel in a chair, Ellen strapping him down, while Pam circled the six foot area with holy oil. As soon as everyone was clear, Pam dropped a match.

“Who are you people? What are you doing?” he yelled.

“We’re gonna need your assistance in some matters, to which we hope that you will be as open as we are accommodating,” Ash answered.

“ _Accommodating_?” the angel spat. “This is accommodating?”

“We could be unaccommodating, if that’s more your style,” Ash suggested. The angel huffed. “Okay then. What’s your name, rank, and affiliation with Metatron?”

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously,” Jo responded.

He looked at the steady flame that encircled him and sighed. “I am Sariel. I judge the angels who have violated divine law.”

Bobby laughed. “Oh I bet you’re busy these days.”

“I am,” he answered. “I am a _benevolent_ angel of death.”

“Let me guess, you’re besties with Metatron too?” Bobby sneered.

“Well…I’m supposed to be. But I’m not. I am allied with the angels who fell.”

Everyone looked at each other. Ash spun a chair around and sat. “Tell us everything.”

 

“So,” Missouri said, putting down the cup of tea in front of the angel in little girl’s clothing, “you’re an angel and you need to send a message to the Winchester boys? On behalf of who?”

“On behalf of friends in Heaven,” Jophiel said. “I used to stand with Metatron millennia ago, but I have grown closer to humanity and even loved it. I’m the one that created Samuel Winchester’s amulet and declared that Dean Winchester be raised from Hell.”

Missouri’s face went blank. “Well aren’t you a busy little thing. Since you’re so close to the Winchesters, why haven’t you been in contact with them yourself?”

“I’ve never met them myself,” Jophiel said, raising the cup to her lips, blowing quietly before taking a sip. “I’m what you would call one of the background actors. I make little noise. I’m only here to do my job. In this case, I feel my duty lies to the friends of the Winchesters in Heaven. If they’ve worked out a way to call out through the angels, then they must be worthy enough for me to at least play interpreter.”

“What friends in Heaven?” Missouri asked.

“I do not know. But they have specifically asked for you to be found. Seeing as how I must not have been the only angel to hear this, it’s possible more may be on their way. We should get moving toward the Winchesters as soon as possible.”

Missouri scoffed. “I don’t know where those boys are. I haven’t seen or heard from them since before the Apocalypse. One of them at least.” She rolled her eyes. “Those boys are always up to some world-ending nonsense though, aren’t they?”

Jophiel placed the cup on the saucer. “They are very important, Miss Moseley. And I think that between the two of us, we can find them. We should go now.”

 

“So the reason why everything’s been so quiet is because Heaven’s got its ‘Closed’ sign up?” Bobby asked. “How’s…where….”

“We don’t know. Metatron has set up portals between Heaven and Earth. They move. They’re never constant.” Sariel looked down. “He has to be stopped.”

“Okay yeah, we got that part,” Ash said. “Now how do we do it?”

“All I know is that Metatron must be killed, and he’s too smart to let anyone near him who might actually do it,” Sariel said. “Although through his arrogance, he might step too closely to the one with the Mark.”

“The Mark of what?” Ellen asked.

“The Mark of Cain. A human bears the Mark given to him from Cain himself. Together with the First Blade, he would be unstoppable against Metatron.”

“The First Blade? Like the one that Cain killed Able with?” Jo asked. “Who’s the guy we’re looking for?”

Sariel looked up to her and exhaled deeply. “Dean Winchester.”

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” Bobby said. “Dean Winchester was given the Mark of Cain by the actual Cain?”

“Yes,” Sariel said. “Not everyone knows this, but Metatron and his circle are aware of the Mark. This includes me. I don’t know how we can kill Metatron, but I know how to reverse the spell that cast out all the angels.”

“Why should we trust you?” Pamela asked. “How is any of this information helping us actually find Sam and Dean?”

“I have no idea how to find them. They’re warded. Wherever they are must be warded as well. You’d need someone on Earth to find them if you wanted to get them a message.”

“Could you give them a message? You could like, jump through one of those portal things and talk to them for us.” Jo suggested.

“Yeah but the second we let him out of the burning ring of fire he’s gonna go ghost on us,” Ash argued.

“He might be our only chance,” Jo countered.

“We still might have one out there.”

Pamela cut in. “What, hoping that your call to everyone across all frequencies landed on someone’s ears that one, could find Missouri, and two, is on our side?”

“Well what are we gonna do?” Bobby yelled. “We can’t just sit around here with our feet up our asses, holding an angel hostage, and for what? We have no leverage, and we’re not helping the boys who obviously have gotten into some serious shit.”

Everyone went quiet. Static on Ash’s laptop settled for a moment on one station before a small voice came across the airwaves.

“I’m with Missouri Moseley. She is safe. We are heading to find the Winchesters. Send your message as soon as you hear this and then continue scanning channels for further contact.”

Ash scrambled to his radio contraption and flipped it on. “Hello, yes, Missouri – this is Ash, and Ellen and Jo and Bobby Singer and Pamela. We need you to find Sam and Dean and tell them we have a spell to reverse the angel thing. We don’t know if it’ll open Heaven, but it’ll at least set things back to somewhat working order.”

They waited in silence until a voice came across again. “Excellent. Thank you for your hard work. You are truly honorable and have my sincerest gratitude,” the small voice spoke. “Begin the spell. Commence scanning. We will be in touch.”

Static continued. Ash smashed the scan button and it began its usual task of jumping from station to station.

“Okay we said we had the spell. Let’s get to brewing this bitch.”

“I said I knew of the spell, I didn’t say I had the ingredients,” Sariel said, annoyance coating his words.

“Well we have all kinds of stuff. And what we don’t have, we can get, right?” Ash looked at his crew, then glared at Sariel. “Especially with a very cooperative insider.”

Sariel sighed, realizing that there is no point in arguing. “Bring me everything you have.”

Ellen looked at Jo, and she gathered everything Ash, her mother, and Pamela had collected while she held down the fort, bringing out two boxes from the back to go with the one on the table, and together they laid out everything on the table closest to Sariel.

“How did you get the ashes of an angel?” Sariel asked, looking betrayed and suddenly uncomfortable with his captors. 

“Was attacked. Holy fire Molotov does some interesting things,” Ash said.

His eyes crossed the table and stopped abruptly. “And grace? How did you obtain this? Self-defense?”

“In _your_ boss’s office, tucked nicely in a drawer,” Ash said, half sitting on the table. “Surprised he hasn’t found it missing and completely lost his shit. The question is, whose is it, and why did he have it?”

“You found that in Metatron’s office?”

“Yes sir.”

“If that is true, the grace belongs to Castiel. Metatron took it as part of his spell to close Heaven, and we’ll need that to open it again. What else do you have?”

“We’ve showed you our cards, now you show us yours,” Bobby said gruffly. “Pony up.”

“We can use these things. We need to save a dying soul with fruit from the Garden. We need to return the stolen grace of an angel.  And we need to kill Metatron to close the last portal with his dying grace.”

“How do we get the fruit from the Garden?” Ellen asked.

“I know of the Garden. I guarded it.  I can get you this.”

Jo laughed. “Okay let’s just set you free then so you can get us a holy fig or something. Are you crazy?”

“Do you have another idea?” Sariel asked. “Either you trust me and we do this, or we waste time and more people die.”

Bobby looked at Ash. “Let’s get started. Waiting never helped anybody.” 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Missouri’s car pulled up to a crossroads.

“I know they’re here. I can feel them. I just don’t…I can’t find them,” she mumbled, sounding worried.

“Relax Miss Moseley,” Jophiel said, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Close your eyes and we will find them.”

Missouri focused hard, and hit her blinker to turn left down a deserted dirt road. She opened her eyes and turned, driving carefully down the thoroughfare, questioning her own feelings. Everything was too fuzzy and getting fuzzier. Before long, the car pulled up beside a set of stairs that went down to a door. She parked and stared at her tiny companion.

“Can I ask you something?” Missouri asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why such a young child? Why she can’t be more than ten.”

“Because she has faith, and she believes in justice.”

The unlikely pair stepped out of the car, scaring off some birds sitting in the canopy of trees above with the sound of their doors shutting. Missouri walked down the steps, gripping the old railing. She knocked hard on the door. Jophiel stared up at her and nodded. She knocked harder. A bolt slid, and then another, and Sam Winchester opened the door.

“Boy what took you so long to answer? Leaving a woman and a child standing out in this dank weather, your mother would be ashamed,” Missouri scolded. Sam’s face fell in shock. His eyes welled up with tears. No words came out, but he opened the door wider and pulled Missouri to him, squeezing her tight. “Boy you have grown. Let go of me before you break me. Now let us in, we’ve got some things to discuss.”

 

“Cas, this is Missouri Moseley, and…a little girl?” Sam said, setting everyone down at the table in the library.

“I am not a little girl,” Jophiel said. “Hello, Castiel. You remember me. You could say, Sam, that your brother’s guardian angel has a guardian angel of his own.”

“Jophiel?” Cas asked, astonished.

“Well you’ve been doing a shitty job,” Sam blurted. His face turned red. “Sorry. Just, have you seen what’s gone on?”

“I’ve been indisposed. I’ve looked after you and Dean for a long time. I guess you could say I tagged Castiel in to take my place. Although I can’t say I’m entirely pleased with how everything has turned out.” The little girl’s eyebrow raised. “But to err is human, and ultimately, that’s where Castiel has sided.” Cas’s shoulders fell, unsure if this was a compliment or a reprimand.

“Why are you here?” Sam asked.

“You have friends in Heaven trying to contact you. I’m here merely as an intermediary. I want Metatron gone, as do you. Your friends called out for help, and I responded. They say they have a message for you, and I was to find Miss Moseley and bring her to you to act in their stead.”

“What friends?”

“He said his name was Ash.”

Missouri added, “Bobby Singer. Jo and Ellen Harvelle. And Pamela Barnes.”

Sam blinked back tears. “They have a message?”

“Yes. First, where is your brother?” Jophiel asked.

“Where is Dean? Isn’t he here?” Missouri asked. “I can sense him, but faintly.” This thought worried her.

“He’s…put away, for his own good,” Sam explained.

“But he is here, with the Mark and the Blade?” Jophiel asked.

“Yes, how did you know?” Cas asked.

“You’d be amazed how well someone can keep in the loop while being in such an inconspicuous vessel,” Jophiel smiled. “Nice trench coat, by the way.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “How do we get in touch with them?”

“Give me a moment.”

 

Ash’s scanner stopped and suddenly a voice came in through one of the stations.

“Ash, I have moved Missouri Mosely and thanks to her help, have located Sam Winchester and Castiel. As well as Dean Winchester, who I have not seen, but am told is at this location. How is everything going on your end?”

Ash rushed to the microphone and flipped the switch. “We have an angel here. We’ve got a spell, we’ve got a plan to open Heaven. Do you copy?” Ash waited for a response.

“You have an angel?”

“Yes. Sariel, he said his name was. Can we trust him?” Ash asked.

Static. “Yes, you can trust him. What message do you need to convey to the Winchesters?”

“We’re going to do a spell to open Heaven, but we need their help. We need Dean to kill Metatron.”

“Shhh...I know this Samuel. Sam says that’s what they’ve been trying to do. His face looks exasperated,” Jophiel explained. “What else?”

“We need to get some things to you, but we don’t have a portal. If you can find Metatron or lure him to you, we can send you the objects for the spell with our guy and you guys wipe him out. Unleash Dean on him after we’re done, and use his grace to close the last portal and boom, we’re back in business.”

“This seems doable. When you’ve gathered everything you need and are ready to send Sariel through the portal, contact again. Until then, leave this channel and continue scanning.” Static.

“Shake a leg, Sariel,” Ellen said, pulling the fire extinguisher out. “We got work to do.”

 

Sariel took Ellen’s hand as they entered the Garden. He laughed as they stepped through the soft grass and breathed in the air that was so clean and fragrant of flowers of all kinds. He walked to a tree in the center of the Garden and plucked a fig.

“Your daughter wasn’t too far off you know,” Sariel said. “The fig itself is not holy, but it is a fig.”

“So this is the Garden?” Ellen asked.

“This is it.”

“Thought it’d be…I don’t know, shinier?”

“Not everything in the Bible is literal, as I’m sure you well know. Milk and honey, streets of gold and all that.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Let’s bring back this holy fig so we can get this over with, shall we?” Sariel turned to go back to the door, but stopped in his steps as Metatron stood before him.

“Let me guess. You have a digestive problem?”

 

“They should have been back by now,” Jo said, pacing along the length of the bar. “I knew I should have gone with them.”

“And what would you have done if the angel did try to do something?” Pamela asked. 

“Shut up.”

“Keep your sass to yourself.”

“Both of you stop your pissing and moaning. What if things do go sour? How are we going to get this to the boys?” Bobby asked.

Ash put his head in his hands. “I need another beer.”

 

 

Dean paced behind the false wall his brother and Cas had locked him behind. He was fed up with being trapped. When he heard voices heading his way, he stopped, leaning against the wall.

“Hello?” He shouted. “Sam?”

“A little older, a little more female,” Missouri said, pushing the doors apart. Dean stared back at her, but it wasn’t her Dean. Not that desperate boy looking for his father. This was a monster wearing Dean’s face, ragged and murderous. “How you doin’ sweetheart?”

“Missouri?” Dean said, his voice cracking.

She handed him a bottle of water. “I’ve come to talk to you about something. We need to lure Metatron out, and you need to kill him, but we need to be sure that you’re you, you follow?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m me.” He snatched the bottle from her and ripped off the cap before chugging it as quickly as he could.

“Yeah, and I’m Mary-Kate and Ashley’s older sister.”

“What do you know? You haven’t been around.”

Missouri smiled. “No, I haven’t. Neither have you.” She stepped toward Dean. “Honey what happened to you? Oh, it doesn’t matter. The point is I know you, Dean Winchester. And if there was anything you were put on this earth for it was saving people.  You do good things Dean, and we need you to step up here. Swallow that evil rising up in you and put down the big boss.”

“What, Sam and Cas gonna let me out finally?” The hurt in his eyes was noticeable.

“If you take my hand, we’ll walk out of here together, okay? We have somewhere to be.”

“And where’s that?”

“The place where all this can end.”

 

The warehouse was dark. Windows boarded up or busted out, rainwater from the previous night and however many rains before ran along the columns in the low grooves of the smooth concrete floor. Jophiel sat at the second floor landing overlooking the warehouse floor, her legs dangling through the bottom bar like the ten year old she looked like, except she was an angel overseeing the battlefield, taking up her post as guardian angel of the Winchesters as she had been before.

Cas stood with Sam, the two on either side of Dean. Missouri wait in the corner, trying to stay out of the way. Jophiel stopped swinging her legs and was silent and unmoving as she communicated with Ash, just letting him know they were in place, and without waiting for a response, her legs resumed their rhythmic kicking.

“Metatron!” Dean yelled out, his voice echoing throughout the warehouse.

“Heya boys,” Crowley said.

“Lurking in corners, how original,” Sam snapped.

“Shouldn’t he be on a leash?” Crowley asked, pointing at Dean. “If he bites anyone, you’ll have to put him down, you know. Looks rabid.”

Dean whipped around. “Give me the blade.”

“No,” Cas said. “We’re waiting on Metatron. Ignore Crowley.”

An unearthly growl emanated from Dean.

“See? He’s one of us now. I’ve even got a hellhound picked out just for him. You should see her. I call her Mary. But you can rename her if you want.”

“Shut _up_ , Crowley,” Sam spat.

Dean’s growl grew in his chest as it began to rise and fall harder and harder.

“You called?” Metatron asked. The portal behind him stayed open. Sariel followed, two of Metatron’s henchmen grasping his sides, angel blades pushed into his ribs.

“Who is this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, he’s not on your side? I found him in the Garden with one of your friends, picking fruit.”

Sam shrugged. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Metatron ignored him. “Hello, Dean. Glad to see they finally let you out to play.”

The hollowness inside Dean grew. The Mark burned and glowed red. “ _Give me the blade_.”

“That’s sweet. You think you’re going to kill me.”

Redness spread over Dean’s face. “I know I am, you son of a bitch.”

“Calm down, Cujo.” Metatron walked forward, his angels moving to the side, still holding Sariel. “I don’t know if you’ve got the juice to kill me. Your brother, your friends maybe, but not me.”

“Fuck off, dick.”

 “That’s so 2012.” He turned to Cas. “Castiel, how’s that grace treating you?”

“Fine. I borrowed some.”

“From Gadreel, I assume. Haven’t seen him around the penthouse lately.”

“He’s alive, just resting,” Cas assured him.

“Oh so he’s on…what’ your boy band again?”

“Team Free Will,” Crowley called from the shadows. “Welcoming new members, but not as quickly as they seem to be losing them. So are we going to do this or what?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Roadhouse door opened, and Ellen fell through.

“That son of a bitch.”

“Mom!” Jo yelled.

“Stop your bellyachin’, he can’t kill me,” she said.  “He got me lost is all.”

“He who?” Bobby questioned. “Where’s the angel?”

“Metatron took him. He took the fruit, and the cardigan wearing little shit showed up and took off with him.”

“What do we do now?” Jo asked.

Pamela smacked Ash on the arm. “Call ‘em up.”

Ash flicked the switch. “Our angel is missing. The Big Bad has the fruit and the angel. We have everything else. Need assistance to finish the plan, over.”

“Is saying ‘over’ really necessary?” Jo asked.

“Probably not, but it feels right okay. Stay on point, please?”

The Roadhouse door started to open and Bobby looked around the room, counting all members and finding them all accounted for. Missouri Moseley walked in.

“I take it you all need some assistance?”

“Missouri are you dead?” Bobby asked.

“No, Bobby Singer, but obviously you are. Humph. Figures. I’m here to collect some items and be on my way before this door doesn’t lead back out the same way.”

“How are you here if you aren’t dead?”

“I looked up at the little angel that ya’ll sent for me and she told me to go, nodded at the portal. While everyone was huffing and puffing and all distracted, I backed myself right into Heaven and here I am. Can we just get on with what needs done please?”

Jo grabbed everything she needed. “Here – Cas’s grace. He has to get it back. Someone dying or a soul dying has to eat the fruit – Metatron has it.”

“It’s a fig,” Ellen added.

“So whatever that means. And Metatron has to be killed, his dying grace or whatever closing the portal you came in through.”

“Outstanding,” Missouri said, tucking Cas’s grace into her bra. Bobby gave her a look. “Bobby Singer, don’t you look at me like that. I know where to put things where no one will find them and where I won’t lose them.”

“Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Now let me get back downstairs and help those boys so hopefully you don’t have to see them up here anytime soon.”

 

Missouri slipped back into the warehouse, back into the corner where she had been hidden. Not a second had passed since she’d left. Metatron crept up on Dean, provoking him. Sam had the Blade in his hand. Crowley wasn’t helping. She didn’t know how to do this. Did it matter what order? She assumed Metatron’s death should be the final thing to happen. She looked up to Jophiel, but she wasn’t there.

_Miss Moseley_ , she thought. 

Missouri about had a heart attack. Jophiel stood beside her. _I’ve got it from here_. She touched Missouri on the head and out she went, like a light.

Her collapsing to the ground drew attention. Jophiel stood above her body, everyone in the room staring at her.

“Who’s the kid?” Crowley asked.

The distraction was enough for the Blade to find its home in Dean’s hand, his arm glowing with intensity and rage. “Dean!”

Metatron stepped to the Man slated to kill him. “So when it comes down to it Dean, do you really think you can kill me?”

Dean slashed out, gashing Metatron across the chest, casting bright light throughout the warehouse. Metatron’s angels came to his aid. Cas flew in, pulling Metatron toward the portal, Jophiel telling him what to do and he answering the call without thinking, ducking past the two angels headed toward Dean.  Dean stabbed one through the skull, and sliced the head off the other, before laying his Blade into flesh one more time.

“Dean,” Sam whispered.

Dean breathed in and out through his teeth, unable to see anything but his rage.  His eyes flickered to black as his hands and the blade were rinsed with the blood of his brother.

“He’s one of us now boys!” Crowley called. “That asshole angel Zachariah was right. Playing your parts, one way or another. Michael and Lucifer, Cain and Abel, Sam and Dean.

“Dean, _no_!” Cas yelled, dropping Metatron’s body to the ground. He ran to Dean, still gripping Sam’s shirt, the Blade lodged between his ribs. The growl that Dean uttered shook the ground around him.

“It’s too late, Clarence. He’s going to help me rule Hell. King of the Damned, Dean Winchester.”

Sam’s hand reached up and touched his brother’s face, marking it with blood. “Dean, don’t let them win. Drop the Blade.”

Sam’s hand fell. Cas grabbed Dean’s face in his hands. “Dean, look at me. Dean. DEAN.” His face shuddered, his eyes unblinking. “Dean Winchester! Dean…Dean no….” He pressed his forehead to Dean’s, looking into his black eyes. “Dean,” he whispered, gripping his head, “please.”

Dean’s shuddering slowed, and then stopped. He dropped the Blade, Sam’s body falling with it. Sariel rushed to Sam’s side, pulling the Blade from his ribs and feeding him the fig. He looked up to Jophiel, who had Cas’s grace in her hand.

“Castiel,” she said, “you prove yourself again to be more human than angel, but you have always deserved this.” He held Dean’s face in his hands, refusing to let go. “You don’t have to be an angel. You can be human. I can make you human. But I return to you your grace, whichever you choose.”

“Just give me back Dean,” Cas said, tears rolling down his face. “And Sam.” He looked to Sam, unconscious on the floor. “Give me humanity, but save these men. I need them. They’re my family.”

Jophiel nodded. She placed the vial containing Cas’s grace into his shirt pocket. “Sariel?” she said, looking to her colleague cradling Sam’s head in his hands.

“The fig is working. He’s healing.”

Cas looked around at Sam, the bleeding stopped. He looked back at Dean, eyes still cold. Despite the vacancy of his eyes, he fell to his knees.

“Why isn’t he…him?” Cas asked. “Why isn’t he Dean?” Cas stood up, looking at the angels as if they were worthless to him. He picked up one of the blades from the two bodies on the ground and walked over to Metatron, gasping near the portal.

“Castiel –“

“You ruined everything. You had everything, and you ruined it. You ruined them. You ruined them all. You can join Crowley in Hell for all I care.”

“I don’t want him,” Crowley chimed in.

“You’ve hurt my family, and now you’re going to pay.” Cas stabbed the angel blade through Metatron’s skull and held it there for a moment before pulling it out and pushing his body through the portal, closing it.

“You did it,” Sariel said. “You killed him.”

“To what end?” Cas asked. He walked to where Dean fell and Sam’s body lay, and collapsed to his knees. “Take the grace. All of it. I just want to be Cas,” he pleaded.

Jophiel grasped her brother’s shoulder. “It is done.”

Cas sharply inhaled, gasping for breath, feeling human again. “And Sam?”

“Cas?” Sam coughed.

Sariel smiled. “He’s alive. He will be fine. He ate the fruit of the Garden.”

“And Heaven?”

“Open,” Jophiel answered. “We’ll handle it from here.”

“And…” his voice caught in his throat.

“Let me handle this,” Missouri Moseley said, having woken up. She sat in front of Dean and took Cas’s hand and Dean’s, holding the two together. Cas’s chin quivered. His head dropped as a few tears fell. “Dean Winchester your family is here waiting for you. You come back to us now, you hear?” Dean’s eyes slowly faded from black. Missouri slapped his face gently. His eyes blinked a few times, and then were back to the vibrant green that had been missing for months.

“You brought him back,” Cas said.

“You did,” she said, looking at their hands. “You’d be amazed what something as small as the hand of a loved one can do.” She looked up at Crowley. “You should probably get going before Heaven comes raining down on you, son.”

“What, I can’t appreciate a family moment?” Crowley said. He rolled his eyes and disappeared with a snap.  

“He’s gonna be weak, but he’ll be just fine. Both of them will. Just you see.”

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“Family don’t end with blood, boy,” Missouri said with a smile.  “And you three have a lot of it.”


End file.
